After exiting the 101, I headed East up Sunset Boulevard, way far from the swank celebrity populated bistros and boutiques that sit under mammoth billboards with barely clothed models who look so nonchalantly dewy. The neighborhoods became more decrepit the further I traveled: littered alleys, yellowing plastic store front signs in Vietnamese, Thai, Armenian and Spanish. Crumpled, beaten people looking defeated while waiting for buses, pushing shopping carts, or scuffling along aimlessly.

Then Sunset curved, and there around the corner was Silverlake - much different than I remember in the 1980s. Then it just a quiet neighborhood of sagging and paint-worn bungalows and apartments below larger hilltop estates. In those days, my husband and I would go to Millie's for breakfast and Charlie's for thrift store treasures. Way before the '80s, Silverlake was once a haven for stars of the '20s and '30s, and where Laurel and Hardy dropped a piano down a stairway in the movie "The Music Box." Charlie Chaplin had a place on the hill above, I've heard. Even many of the streets are named after silent film stars like Norma Talmadge. Not long ago, I went to a vine covered, Spanish style mansion above Sunset Boulevard, called The Paramour which was the home of silent star Antonio Moreno and his oil-heiress wife Daisy Canfield - and heard tales of how they might still live there... in spirit. Today the estate is home to a recording studio and, I believe, is still rented out for parties, weddings, concerts festivals and film shoots. Lately, it's the home of the Super Nova contestants on Dave Navarro's show.

Silverlake's past still lingers, but now it's come alive with an artistic energy: store fronts painted in bright terra-cotta, aubergine and saffron; Exteriors bright with artwork and decorated metal sculptures.

I dropped my daughter off for her guitar lesson, then wandered over to the Den of Antiquity - a cramped shop selling an eclectic variety of things from days long past. Amongst dusty objects was an old circa 1950s television, the glass screen filled with water and swimming goldfish. Then, craving a hot cup of coffee, I entered the Casbah Cafe through its turquoise, arched stone doorway and headed toward the pastries, coffees, teas, French and Northern African treats behind the glass counter. Further back, under large Moroccan lamps, were brightly colored robes, gowns and scarves draped over tables and hanging along the walls. Men and women spoke softly while sipping cappuccinos and trying to ignore the loud, actress dressed in a black turtle neck shirt, faux leopard mini-skirt and suede Ugg boots. Over and over she mentioned her agent, the shoot and the studio. I wanted to scream, "Yeah, we heard you already!" but decided to buy a tart instead of yell at one.

After I dusted pastry crumbs from the front of my shirt, I headed past the crowds eating al fresco, shopping or talking to friends and walked into the brick building where my daughter had her guitar lesson. She walked toward me, as I heard the distant "aaaahhhh, eeeeehhh, oooooooh" of a singing lesson and the screech of a new violin player.

Walking back to our car, we passed apartments with windows opened wide blaring music and blowing incense scented smoke, bringing me back to my childhood in San Francisco. I got a taste of of my bohemian past, and it only took me one freeway and a half-hour drive (without weekday traffic) to get it.

Here, my best friend Cindy (on left) and I (on right) are, in 1974, wearing our garage sale treasures. Notice the ferns and coleus plants in the background; they seemed to be the plants of the decade, since most of my parents' friends had them hanging in macrame holders.Below, my daughter's friend (left) and my daughter (right), in 2004, after rummaging through my closet. The pink maxi-dress my daughter's wearing was her Grandma's dress from the '70s. The label inside the dress says "Foxy Lady."

Not long after the photo on the right was taken, one of my business vendors helped me carry some things to my car, saw
the cheese hat in the trunk and said, "I won't ask." Maybe he thinks I
have some strange fetish. No. Just a daughter who likes cheese so
much that it was one of the first five words she learned as a baby. Her
friends bought her the hat in honor of her love of the dairy product.

Donna over at SoCalMom just tagged me, so I'll do as requested and...list five things I miss about Childhood:

1) The ability to walk up to someone and say, "Hey, you wanna play?" simply because they looked my size.

In the photo, my friend Darryl and me. We had nothing more in common than being neighbors and a shared passion for collecting C&H sugar packets with scenic photographs on them, which we oddly stashed under the lining of my dresser drawer.

2) I miss having my family together... and those big holiday gatherings loud with laughter and ice tinkling in tumblers. I miss sleeping over at my grandparents' house and waking to silver dollar sized pancakes and sizzling bacon. Every day I was at Grandpa's house in the Sunset District in San Francisco, he would give me a quarter to buy him his favorite candy bar, a Snickers, and something for myself - which was usually a Charms sweet & sour sucker.

Now my grandparents are no longer alive, uncles and aunts spread about, my sister lives in North Carolina and my mother lives in France, while my father is another story all together...

The time never mattered. It seemed endless... and within my timeless bubble I never worried about anything. I took for granted our years of traveling the world. It was just what people did. One moment I'd be in Yugoslavia and Morocco the next. It all seemed so normal, safe and eternal.

4) I miss being able to eat my favorite foods without having to worry about clogging arteries and inflating thighs. Before my mother became a health-food "nut" in the '70s, I could gobble Velveeta on Wonderbread, Lucky Charms right out of the box and slurp it all down with vibrant red cherry flavored Kool-Aid without one worry about chemicals and cholesterol.

Where have all the real A&Ws gone? I miss those, too. The ones that serve teen, mama and papa burgers. Every lunch break I ate a teen burger (bacon & cheese) and onion rings washed down with an orange soda float... and loved every minute of it.

5) I miss make-believe.

One moment I would be an Indian crushing corn against a rock, the next I was a queen in a castle, or a bachelorette stewardess with men beating down my door (I watched too many movies and T.V. shows like "Love American Style").

My friends and I would spend hours carting tossed furniture and blankets into groves of trees creating forts or setting up plays. Life was just a dream back then...when the time in the future wasn't even comprehensible.

At one point this weekend I shook my head and wondered, how is it that my daughter's going to chat with Johnny Depp and I'm here sitting at home?

Saturday night, my husband and I planned on seeing jazz guitarist Kenny Burrell at the Catalina Bar and Grill in Hollywood...that is, until my daughter's social life interfered.

I took my daughter, and her friend, to the Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Awards that afternoon at 2:00 p.m., and planned to pick them up when the show was through; I figured that would be about three hours. Before getting out of the car, my daughter turned to me and said casually, "Well, it could be later because we want to go the after-party." I laughed... "Yeah, right!" because she wasn't invited to the Nickelodeon party. So I didn't worry that her event would interfere with my plans for that evening.

Two hours later, my daughter called me. "Guess what! We're sitting behind Randy, Simon and Paula from American Idol. Gotta go!" She called again, "Ben Stiller just sat next to us. Oops! Gotta go!" Then again - "I'm five feet from Johnny Depp. He just got slimed. I'm going to go say hi to him..." So I screamed into the phone receiver "Tell him your mom loves (she hung up) him...!" The final time she called, I'm thinking, Good. They're done. Now I can go pick them up. But no. She called to tell me she was at the after-party standing next to Jamie Foxx. "Did you know Paula Abdul is really short? You should see all the free food and the gift bags they gave us!"

Well, being the self-sacrificing parents door mats we are - we ended up staying home and missed seeing Kenny Burrell. I figured how many times does a kid get to watch Johnny Depp get slimed and stand next to Jamie Foxx, while stuffing her face with free cookies? Normally, I would not have been pleased. But, honestly, we were sort of in the mood just to hang around at home anyway.

The Star Wars photo below was taken during the after-party. My daughter is on the left, her friend is on the right. Now, if she just uses the same determination all through her life that she used to get into the party - she'll get far. May the force be with her!

My husband's brother, along with his wife (the brother's) and four kids, have been visiting from Canada. They had a van big enough for all of us (including my husband, daughter and me) for only one day, so we had a short time to play tour guides properly. And in that one day we needed to find things that would intrigue a group ranging in ages from six to fifty-something, many of whom have an interest in music.

So here's our lightning speed L.A. itinerary:

From West San Fernando Valley, we drove along Ventura Boulevard - noting to my fourteen-year-old music-loving nephew that Tom Petty and Frank Zappa are just a few artists who mention the boulevard in their lyrics. I mentioned the "Brady Bunch" house (11222 Dilling Street, Studio City) but apparently the kids are all too young to remember the Bradys (Ouch! I'm that old?) So Up Coldwater Canyon we headed to Franklin Lake. Upon sight of the familiar setting, my husband and I began whistling the opening theme to the "Andy Griffith Show", and mentioned the lake's use in the show's opening sequence, along with other shows such as "Bonanza," which filmed there. Without getting out of the van, we headed down Coldwater Canyon to Beverly Hills where the kids' mouths hung open in awe at the size of the homes.

To satisfy the 6-year-old's hunger pangs, we zoomed over for a quick bite at the Farmers Market on 3rd and Fairfax. We piled back into the van and headed over to Amoeba music in Hollywood. Here, the kids could have stayed all day, but we pulled them away after buying stacks of C.D.s to park and walk over to the hand-prints at Mann's theater - wading our group through the wacky gathering of panhandlers dressed like Elvis, Michael Jackson and Darth Vader.

After Amoeba, hand-prints of stars the kids never heard of was not quite as thrilling, but I figured we were in the neighborhood. I helped wake up the six year old and his mom (my sister-in-law) by walking ahead and asking Frankenstein to give him a little scare. What kind of Aunt does that? I'm mean, I know (See photo).

After a quick glance at the Hollywood sign, again we belted into the short-bus. This time, we headed for the Guitar Center. Most of the kids ran to separate instruments: one to the drums, one to the basses and another to the guitars. My sister-in-law and I joked about becoming the new Partridge family - all she and I would need are me some triangles and tambourines...oh, and talent! (The kids are talented; I am not)

A little more weary this time, we again passed through Beverly Hills and snaked our way down Sunset Boulevard, where my husband and I pointed out various landmarks: where I got mugged in the eighties, the legendary "Riot House" (Hyatt House), and the Viper Room where River Phoenix died... you know, nice stuff like that. And on toward the beach we traveled - just in time to reach the Santa Monica Pier for an inky orange-pink sunset, a ride on the roller-coaster and to eat some greasy hot dogs.

AM's the recent winner of the L.A. Weekly singer/songwriter of the year award. AM, as in...on your A.M. dial - not as in...the early part of a day. Those were the initials he was born with, but like kismet also represent his love for the music he grew up listening to on his A.M. radio airwaves.

I saw him for the first time last Monday night at the party for his remixed CD, titled "Mainstay," and his video debut at Cinespace in Hollywood.

His voice is soulful, and his music is a shimmering, harmonious blend, that sounds - at times - haunting and dreamy. He's done so much of his own thing with the music that's influenced him it's hard to say, "He sounds like..." But if I had to pick...hmmm... I'd say his voice sounds a bit like Beck's, but the music is such a beautiful collage it's hard to pin.

So if you're like me, disappointed with what's on most radio stations check out AM, and Fonogenics (an online music boutique) for other great music.

I asked AM, "Why don't I hear you on the radio?"

He said, "KCRW plays us."

I felt like thumping myself on my head for two reasons: Of course!! The party was put on by KCRW, along with Fonogenics. And for being so thick skulled; I've been wanting to hear some of my favorite writers like, Sandra Tsing Loh and Hollis Gillespie, on that station. And why haven't I? What? Are my arms paralyzed and I'm completely incapable of pushing a radio button to 89.9 F.M.? I mean, I could do that with my toes. So... for the last two days when I'm not listening to my AM cd, I'm listening to KCRW. And I didn't even have to use my toes. What can I say? I'm a slave for quality.

Somehow, whenever I see, hear, touch, read or taste something of skill, craftsmanship... something that someone spent time thinking about and creating... well, the world just seems to be filled with posibilities - and I have hope.

Last night, a group of our friends met my husband and me for Moroccan food at Dar Maghreb. We've all been wanting to get together there for years. We finally did... and had a blast!!

It's the third time my husband and I had eaten there - the first was our first date back in 1987; still, we were blown away by everything: the atmosphere, the music and dancing, and of course - the food.

The Atmosphere -

it's absolutely gorgeous. We entered through a large brass, key-hole shaped door into a ceiling-less courtyard of white arches over artistically tiled floors, finding a gurgling fountain under the blackness and stars of the night sky. We continued into the dining area where the high painted ceilings were dimly lit by ornate Moroccan lamps and intricately carved wood decorated the doorways. There we sat upon cushioned seating surrounded by ornate pillows and brightly tiled walls.

The energetic Moroccan music played continuously in the background, rising in volume before each time the belly dancer, Mesmera, entered the room. She was amazing; her movements - the way she flicked and rotated her scarved hips seductively, moved her back in serpentine undulations and jingled her fingertips - were a work of art. At one point she came over to teach my friends and me a chest thrust type move that I think could make us all very popular at parties

The Food -

Though I remembered from previous visits the entire experience - seven courses all eaten with fingers, beginning with the waiter drizzling warm water over our hands as we held them over a basin - I had forgotten just how good the food is.

After ordering quite a few cocktails (the most popular with my girlfriends and me was their Champagne with Chambord cocktail), we not only wanted to eat, but needed to before we drowned ourselves in alcohol.

First came bowls of the best lentil soup I've ever tasted: curried, slightly sweet and smoky, with a strong cilantro flavor.

Then a platter of marinated vegetables - pureed eggplant, carrots and tomatoes to be eaten with bread. The eggplant was my favorite of the three vegetables.

Next arrived one of my favorite dishes: the b'stilla. A pie of light and flaky phyllo dough filled with chicken, scrambled eggs, almonds, flavored with spices - one of which is cinnamon. The outer crust is dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon, so that the entire pie is a perfect harmony of savory and sweet flavors mingling together. The first time I had this, I'd never eaten anything quite like it. (I don't have photos of this. We ate it before I could take any.)

With a sweet taste still on my lips, our next course arrived: the brochettes (skewered meats). Our group chose the shrimp brochettes, and I'm glad we did. They were amazing - sweet, moist, slightly spicy and accompanied by a creamy, tomatoey sauce that reminded me of thousand Island dressing.

Next, was our choice of poultry. We chose the chicken with lemons and olives. The chicken was incredibly juicy and tender, falling off the bone, and flavored strongly with the lemons and olives. As full as we were getting, none of us stopped eating this until their was not one bit of meat left; it was too tasty.

By the time the cous cous with vegetables arrived, I was too full. Everyone else ate it though, and couldn't stop raving about how good the cous cous was - so I had a bite. It was really good - moist and flavorful, sweetend by the plump raisins. Cous cous can be a little bland, but this dish wasn't at all.

After this, a fruit and nut platter arrived, followed by sticky honey and powdered sugar covered pastries and warm, sweet spearmint tea. I only drank the tea, and wow! It was so good and soothing; the perfect end to a wonderful evening.

Then came the bill...(below, on the right, is a photo of Todd seeing the total cost of our meal for the first time.)

I love Spring! Everything is green, blooming, smelling good, the air is clearer and the birds are singing... and I get gifts for being born in April... Woo hoo!

My pal Alfie, the Pablo Picasso look-a-like on the left, gave me some beautiful flowers from his garden: sweet peas, freesia, baby roses and amaryllis.

My husband surprised me with a huge bouquet of mixed flowers, and my favorite German chocolate cake from Gelson's.

My daughter even picked some flowers for me and gave me all her orange Skittles, because she doesn't like them so much but knows they're my favorite flavor in the bag.

For dinner, we made our own pizza, including the dough, from scratch. I bought most of the ingredients (mozzarella cheese, pepperoni, parmesean, romano and marinara sauce) from Cavaretta's Deli ( 22045 Sherman Way, Canoga Park 818-340-6626), but made our dough from scratch (It takes a while, but well worth it) and cooked it on our pizza stone. It was spectacular!! ( the pizza tasted way better than it looks)

Listening to these well spoken, interesting and witty authors was so inspiring and informative that an audience member even asked the panel, "Do you find writing to be a form of therapy, because you all seem so incredibly healthy and articulate?" True. All of them spoke only pithy, pertinent pearls of wisdom (Oh, I love alliteration!) worthy of wrapping quotes around...but of course, I arrived without a pen.Bullwinkle's Rocky -After getting some spicy tuna rolls with extra wasabi and chopsticks, I sat down for lunch on a lawn right next to the stage where June Foray (the voice of Rocky the Squirrel from "Rocky And Bullwinkle" - one of my favorite cartoons, along with "Fractured Fairy Tales") was answering children's questions. One older boy asked, in his best booming Bullwinkle impersonation, "Were you also the voice of Natasha?" to which Ms. Foray responded, "Excuse me?" Then, after hearing the question clearly, she let loose with her deep Russian Natasha voice, "Must get squirrel, Dahlink."

Authors I Met & Books I Bought -I then walked the campus investigating the different booths, and found Angel City Press's booth, full of California and L.A. related books, where I picked up a copy of "Curbside L.A." by Cecilia Rasmussen.

Next, I bought "Wild L.A.: A Day Hiker's Guide" by John McKinney - a book composed entirely of L.A. County specific hikes, which I'm really excited about since I tend to stick to my usual walking areas: Solstice Canyon, Malibu Creek Park and Stoney Point, to name a few. In the book the author included the distances of each hike, clear details on which directions to take, as well as some great history about each area. (The author, John McKinney, in photo signing my book.)

Then I made a fool out of myself when I saw Marcia Wallace, an actress from one of my favorite shows as a kid, "The Bob Newhart Show," at a book signing table. I asked if I could buy one of her books... Duh! But, in my defense, I was a little flummoxed by seeing someone I grew up watching on T.V. Ms. Wallace was so sweet, she and her equally lovely friend, Carol Wood - writer and webmaster, somehow ended up asking me about my daughter and if I write, and I, of course, was only to happy to answer. But once I left, I glanced down at the book cover of Marica Wallace's book "Don't Look Back We're Not Going That Way!" and read "How I overcame a rocky childhood, a nervous breakdown, breast cancer, widowhood, fat, fire and menopausal motherhood..." I wished I took time to ask her more about herself, rather than gush about the television show she was on decades ago. (Below right, Ms. Wallace having to wait for my camera's three second delay.)

Finally, I thought about attending the Carrie Fisher interview with Sandra Tsing Loh, but then decided to listen to Laurie Notaro read from her new book "We Thought You Would Be Prettier." The self-named "dorkiest girl alive" (Laurie, I can relate!) had the audience howling, while simultaneously dealing with the wind knocking over her book display sign and reading aloud how she resorted to flipping off an 8-year-old summer camp kid at her YMCA. (Laurie Notaro, below)

I've been watching a "reality" show on the Style Network called "Hot Spot:The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel," where viewers get to follow the renovation of the Roosevelt Hotel. On last night's show, the people involved in the renovation were patting themselves on the back for a job well done. Cut to: reality - the place is not yet finished.

I went to check out the updated hotel this afternoon hoping to have a drink by the pool, but the bar wasn't even opened; not a bottle nor a glass could I see - only a generous amount of wood dust sprinkled about.

Even without my poolside cocktail, the Roosevelt remains an elegant oasis since the renovators were required to preserve the Roosevelt's historic features; for that, we historic landmark lovers can let out a sigh of relief. (photo on left, looking through Roosevelt's front door to Hollywood Bl.)

Entering the sedately lit and opulent Spanish Colonial lobby after leaving the blare of noise and
light on Hollywood boulevard, is always, for me, like stepping back into Greta Garbo's era, while the pool area is so light and mid-century modern sleek - I could imagine Marilyn Monroe slink by leaving a trail of Channel No. 5. in her wake.

Walking through the Roosevelt, I'm happy to see it remains an elegant haven amidst glittering sidewalk-stars and imbedded handprints. I just expected that it would be fully completed, as that Style Network show made it seem. But as many things in Hollywood, not everything is quite as it appears on screen - and that's just reality.

(The pool photos show David Hockney's 1980's mural on the bottom of the pool.)

(The two photos above are of the lobby's ceiling, originally painted by A.T. Heinsbergen, and then restored by Heinsbergen's son.)

(Below I've included the Spicy shrimp and Chicken sate recipes. They were both amazingly good, and great for entertaining since they can be made ahead of time.)

We had our friends, Todd and Francine, over for a barbecue and margaritas Saturday night. After a few rounds of drinks along with the details and photos of their "Married People Gone wild!" Las Vegas weekend, we sat down to eat a huge amount of food: spicy-sweet shrimp with mint dip, chicken sate with peanut sauce and cucumber salad in rice vinegar dressing.

(photo on left: property of Francine, from their Las Vegas weekend)

The shrimp were sweet with a bite, then cooled with the mint sauce - tasting of Indian and Thai influences. I made so many of these skewers, I never imagined we'd finish them all. But we did. This is one of my new favorite dishes. The shrimp went well with the chicken sate - which were really moist and intensely flavored with the teriyaki-ginger marinade, which were even more flavorful when dipped in peanut sauce.

Look at these two...just short of celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary. Who says people don't stay married these days?

The following Monday night Fran sent me an e-mail thanking, and flattering, me for the amazing food, for which I can't really take entire credit - other than not mangling the recipes. Both the spicy shrimp and chicken sate recipes I found on Epicurious.com. Each of these dishes were great because they could be prepared earlier in the day, and left to marinate, which meant I was able to hang-out with people rather than stay sequestered in the kitchen slaving away.

My friend Todd, an architect normally, played drums with a band for an ASCAP Rhythym & Soul show at Pearl Restaurant (once Luna Park) in West Hollywood. No cameras were allowed. Did that stop me, rebel that I am? Nope. Without the use of my flash, the photos came out blurry.

After all that rythym and rebellion I was hungry. We headed over to Carney's for chili fries (so-so oily fries, but good chili). My Carney's shot is blurry because I had a few watered down twelve dollar drinks at Pearl...$12.00... as in cash, money, mullah!!! I could have bought six bottles of Trader Joe's Two-Buck Chuck for the price of one of their drinks.

Other than breakfast with friends, Marv & Lisa, at the Country Deli in Chatsworth, it's been all work and little play. Below is Lisa and one of the Country Deli's murals (Is it just my imagination or does that cowboy look Rastafarian?)

I spent the afternoon walking through Malibu Creek Park. The creek, full after the rains, rushed by below the trail. The air was crisp and clear and, smelling of damp earth and sage; breathing it in made me almost delirious with happiness.

The rain left the hills green and Rock Pool full and churning - deeper than I can ever remember.

It was all so beautiful, I hated to leave. (Rock Pool and other sites at Malibu Creek have been used in many films and TV shows, Such as "MASH," "Lost Horizon," "Tarzan Escapes, " and more.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood... if you live in Cameron Woods, I suppose. It's where Orion Avenue (one of the most filmed streets in the San Fernando Valley) is located. Used for its All American look: Swings hanging from trees, American flags proudly displayed, neatly mowed, wide, green lawns and white picket fences.

The other day I passed Orion (West of Sepulveda, South of Victory) and, once again, there were movie equipment trucks and dressing trailers lining the street.

A few years ago, I, too, was asked to use my home for filming. We lived in a cottage in Melody Acres - a neighborhood that feels like it's out in the country with horses, pigs, emus and the occasional peacock sighting. But any initial bit of pride I felt disappeared when I found out It would've been for a Lifetime Channel movie about a poor, single, alcoholic, once-abused mother living in the deep south. It never did happen. Apparently, they found another house that looked a little more like a ramshackle Southern hovel - but I'm betting it wasn't in Cameron Woods.

Tuesday night, after perusing a local bookstore, my husband and I decided to head to Fabrocini's for their tiramisu - which we've each fallen in love with (gastronomically speaking).

We were seated at the only available table, below one of their wine racks, then teased with the aroma of garlic wafting from the kitchen. Weak under garlic's spell, we decided to get the calamari fritto before dessert.

While nibbling on the rosemary flavored bread, I was asked twice by waiters to reach for bottles of wine behind me, "Could you please hand me a bottle of Ruffino?" "And that Portofino...no..up..up...to the right."

So expect when seated below a wine rack at Fabrocini's your assistance will likely be needed. For me, it just added to the character of the place, right along with the chefs in their high, white hats working over pans of sizzling food - visible over the open counter.

After reaching for wine bottles, I began telling my husband my thoughts on time travel, which he didn't find very interesting.(If you want to read only about food, please skip this portion.)

Me: If it were possible to go back in time to save a person, who would've died otherwise, then that "saved" person's existence would effect millions of people - just by walking too slowly in a cross walk this person might cause a driver -waiting for him to pass - to enter into a coffee shop thirty seconds later than he would've if not for the pedestrian...thirty seconds too late to meet the woman he would have married otherwise. Just think, if I hadn't met Jennifer who introduced me to Paul who became my roommate in Orange County, where I moved and found a job at Holiday Spa - then I wouldn't have met Daisy who let me sleep on her boyfriend's couch after I moved out of Orange County- and I would have never have met her sister Norca who became my roommate, then dragged me to that party where I met you...and our daughter wouldn't exist. That doesn't interest you?

Him: Nope.

(This conversation was prompted by A Discovery Channel program on time travel which featured a quantum physicist who, as a child, wanted to travel back in time to save his father who died early in the physicist's life.)

Well, back to the calamari fritto; though my husband and I couldn't agree on the time travel-fate thing, we both agreed the calamari was the best we've had in a very long time - so fresh it could've come right from the ocean, jumped in the pan and appeared on our table. Not at all chewy, perfectly seasoned, crisp, golden breading coated the calamari, which came with a really tasty, nicely spiced tomato dipping sauce. Delicious!

After our fabulous evening snack, we ordered the tiramisu, which is so good I often drive out of my way just to get a few orders as take-out. I've had a lot of tiramisu and Fabrocini's is some of the best - light, with layers of sweet, creamy marscapone, on feathery lady fingers, soaked in liquor and espresso, then dusted and drizzled with chocolate. The only other tiramisu this good, I ate in North Beach in San Francisco, years ago.

Tuesday night was only the second time we sat down at Fabrocini's - referred by the rave reviews from our friend Doug - and plan on returning to try other dishes on their menu. If the rest of the food is anything like the calamari and tiramisu, we'll be dining well.

P.S. We went back last night (Friday), while the calamari was good, but it was chewier than before, though still tasty. This time my husband and I both ordered the shrimp scampi, and really enjoyed it. The shrimp were plump and perfectly cooked until tender, not over done; the garlic-basil sauce poured over the spaghetti and shrimp was real tasty.

The darned bread and calamari were so good, my husband was full by the time the scampi arrived - but not too full for tiramisu.

My husband and I were craving Thai food Saturday night, but haven't been happy with the last few places we've tried. I checked out the Chowhound message board and read some good reviews for Chao Krung, which is across the street from the C.B.S. Studios on Fairfax.

Right away I liked the restaurant's cozy, yet kitschy, Thai theme - the waitresses in colorful silk gowns, the ornamentally carved wood and especially the mural at the back of the restaurant. Diners in white who sat below the painting lit up in purple from the black light that set the mural's moon aglow in neon green. A Disneyesque take on Thailand.

Chao Krung doesn't have a full bar, so I ordered a Thai beer and my husband asked for a Thai iced tea. Though I'm not a huge beer lover, the Thai beer was light and refreshing and the Thai iced tea was exceptionally good and creamy.

For an appetizer we ordered the beef sate, which was the best I've had in a long time. The meat was juicy, tender and so flavorful I ate some of it without the peanut sauce.

Next came our two entrees, Thai barbecue chicken with sweet and sour sauce and pad Thai. The chicken was tender and tasty in the dipping sauce, while the pad thai was a little on the dry side. The noodles could have used more sauce and there weren't enough shrimp - unless my husband took more than his share. The pad thai wasn't bad, but it wasn't the best I've ever had.

The other two dishes were good enough that I plan on returning to try the curries and the glass noodle salad someone on the Chowhound message board recommended.

We ended the meal with hot tea and a shared slice of moist chocolate cake drizzled in raspberry sauce and topped with berries. It wasn't too sweet or rich and satisfied my craving for chocolate.

The meal was nice and amazingly inexpensive. All together we ordered two Thai iced teas, two Thai beers, an appetizer, two entrees, tea and one slice of cake and paid less than fifty dollars.

I love books. I love to search for them, to buy them, to read them and, inevitably, to fall asleep with them. I have books lining shelves in nearly every room - and on my coffee table. But the only books that make it to the table are books related to California: California mid-century architecture, California art, California kitsch, California landscaping... you get the idea.

(Front and Back of book with quote)

I hadn't really looked at the smallest coffee table book, which was a gift, until my husband picked it up and noticed that one of the two quotes on the back is by a relative of mine, Kevin Starr. Other than being my mother's cousin, he's the California State Librarian Emiritus and writer of a series of books on the history of California. In some of those books he infuses the experiences of his relatives, many of which are also mine, who originally came from Ireland to live in San Francisco - where another five generations remained, for a while anyway. (Photo on right are my great-great grandparents who are also Kevin Starr's great-grandparents, the Thomas Nortons. I don't know her first name.)

Whenever I see Kevin's colorful books lining bookstore shelves, or see him interviewed on CNN or PBS, I admire how he spreads his enthusiam for this state, and wonder - though his passion is obviously a lot more serious than my book collection and blog - if our mutual interest is somehow written into my DNA. Or is it just the San Diego sea breeze that I breathed in the morning of my birth that makes me unable to imagine living anywhere else on the planet.

A few years ago I ran into Kevin at the L.A. Times Book festival at UCLA, and invited him and his beautiful wife, Sheila, over for a spaghetti dinner; I picked his brain, between bites, about a book idea I had - because that's the selfish sort of person I am... If I feed you, I need something in return. That's what It felt like, anyway.

Well, as of this date, I've never written that amazing book, and next April I will return to UCLA's book festival to drool over more books and admire the people who actually sat down to write them, like Kevin - who I hope goes on for many more years sharing his love and knowledge of California, the state we love so much.

The Quote: "California has always been a figment of its own imagination...." Kevin Starr

Now I just hope Kevin doesn't discover that I outed him on the internet as being a relative of mine.

Growing up in San Francisco I never had a chili burger, so when I first moved to L.A., my roommate and I were both surprised to find that so many burger places in L.A. pile chili on their burgers. Whether chili burgers are more popular in Los Angeles than they are in San Francisco, I'm not sure - but I've come to think of chili burgers as an L.A. thing; right up there with waitresses who're actresses and everyone and their mechanic writing a screenplay. While I've yet to become a chili burger girl, I am definitely a chili cheese fries fiend... and I believe I've just found my chili cheese fry nirvana.

My daughter turned me on to Daglas Burgers, 20036 Vanowen St. Canoga Park (near Winnetka Bl.) Knowing that I'm a sucker for a good corn dog, she told me I have to go to Daglas - a place I've passed by for years. The Daglas sign and exterior, growing dingy over the decades, never called out to me. But, now that I think of it, I've notice there usually are a lot of people inside where the tables and arcade games are, and waiting in line. Silly me! Lines of people usually mean... good food - of course.

With my daughter's good review in mind, I ordered a corn dog and chili cheese fries for me, and a chili burger for my husband. While ordering, I watched the cooks hustling over sizzling grills - that's when I eyed a huge pan full of peeled, fresh potato wedges. They make them fresh there! Not frozen. The Daglas motto is: Where every day is Fry day!

After eating their fries, I'd like to bow down to them and say... yes! Daglas, you've made the best darned chili cheese fries I believe I've ever had. The fries were fresh, sprinkled with seasonings and salt, then topped with really good thick, beef chili.

And my daughter was right, Daglas does make a good corn dog - a juicy dog wrapped in lots of corny-sweet batter, fried golden crisp.

My husband, a man of few adjectives, said he liked the chili burger more than any he's had in a while, including our local Tommy's.

I was just thinking about my favorite restaurant as a kid, Joe's of Westlake. - just south of San Francisco.

My grandparents started taking my mom, her brother and sister way back in the '50s. Over the years, our family kept up the tradition of celebrating birthdays there. Since I've lived in Los Angeles, many years now, I rarely get to visit Joe's.

I miss their raviolis, their charbroiled burgers on sourdough, their big seafood salad, their juicy prime rib. I miss the waiters who always remembered us, marveled at how we grew and who would later pinch my daughter's cheeks, amazed at how time flies. I miss waiting in the darkened, crowded bar and listening to the piano player tinkling the keys in the background. I miss having a place where our entire family could meet a few times a year. Oh, and I miss their perfect cheesecake.

My daughter celebrated her very first birthday at Joe's.

She made many messes at Joe's, too - once even throwing her spaghetti into my purse. Rarely did my daughter sit still, except while eating raviolis and ice cream.

My husband and I decided to grab a bite to eat in Westwood, while we were in the area. After walking around and becoming ravenous, we decided to go into Damon & Pythias since there were a lot of people there - usually a good sign.

I almost wanted to look for something else after glimpsing the cafeteria style atmosphere - orders are taken over the counter and brought to tables. But after seeing the menu - updated versions of comfort food - we decided to stay. I was told the L.A. Cheese-steak is popular, so decided to try that, with some onion rings, while my husband went for a half-rack of Tropical Mojito Ribs.

We got the best table in the place: outside, closest to the sidewalk with a great view of the Fox Theater just down the street - where the premiere for the movie "Robots" was taking place. I would've been happy to sit a while and people watch, but our food came so soon I barely had a chance... not that I'm complaining.

My L.A. cheese-steak sandwich, marinated and thinly sliced steak, grilled onions, roma tomatoes and baby greens on grilled foccacia bread, was one of the most flavorful sandwiches I've had in a long time. It came with a really tasty garlic-bluecheese dressing, which I dipped my onion rings into. Of course I had to try my husband's tropical mojito ribs, which were probably some of the best I've had in a while - tasty and tender enough to fall off the bone; his meal came with enough garlic-curly fries to feed UCLA's entire Sigma-Chi house. (Please excuse the gnawed bone in the rib photo; my husband was too hungry to wait and is getting sick of me taking photos of his food)

The entire meal with two drinks came to $24.00 and change - a great deal, especially considering the quality and amount of the food, as well as the speed in which it arrived.

Damon & Pythias- 1061 Broxton Avenue, Westwood, 310-824-8777

As I snapped this photo of the "Robots" premiere, I accidentally captured Dennis Woodruff in his painted car, to the right of the photo. *****************************************************

Walking around Westwood we spotted numerous empty storefronts with "For Lease" signs in their windows, which is hard to understand when the quaint village is so close to U.C.L.A. and still has those great movie theaters - where, unlike the huge cineplexes, crowds actuallly line the streets on weekend evenings to buy tickets. The movie goers aside, the sidewalks aren't crowded the way they were back in the '80s when Westwood sidewalks were filled with nightlife.

Over the years, many neigbhorhoods in Los Angeles tend to come and go in popularity, so I'm hoping Westwood has another chance to come alive once again.

Here it is - January, just days after the weeks of rain finally stopped, and the weather's warm enough to barbecue.

Sunday, we headed over to Jim's Marketon Fallbrook Ave. in Woodland Hills, becauseI'd always heard they have really great meat. I don't eat steak that often, so I'd never made the effort to go over to Jim's - but I'm glad we finally did. The two rib-eyes we bought turned out to be better than any I'd had before. Both were nicely marbled throughout and barbecued to sizzling, juicy perfection. Ooh..they were so tender.

Grilling artichokes -

Along with the steaks, we made mushrooms and grilled artichokes. I sauteed mushrooms with shallots and a bit of madeira. The artichokes, I parboiled until the stems were tender enough for a fork to slide through. Once out of the boiling water, I sliced them in half, drizzled olive oil and sprinkled them with some creole seasoning and put on the grill until some of the outer leaves became slightly blackened. I made a dip of mayonnaise and the same creole seasoning. Delicious... If I do say so myself.

We felt like we had a meal as good as any restaurant we'd been to, except for the sink full of dishes, of course.

So I was perusing the Promenade Mall in Woodland Hills, the day before last, in search of last minute Christmas gifts - and who should I stumble upon in a darkened, bottom floor corridor, stowed behind electronic ad banners and structural columns? Santa! Yes, the jolly old man himself was sequestered, along with one defeated looking elf, as if he was a nuisance - nothing more than mere holiday flotsam tossed aside to make room for the previously mentioned ad banners.

When my daughter was little, about five years ago, in this very same mall, Santa was the center of attention sitting upon a throne, adorned by loving elfish assistants who calmed the long line of Santa adoring children.

Yet today, Santa sits alone but for one elf, in the dark counting the minutes until he can take off the suit and get some respect once again.

The weather here in Southern California is absolutely spectacular! Every day this week the sky has been clear - thanks to the Santa Ana winds - and eye-popping turquoise blue.

I took this photo this morning at Pierce College.

Even with this warm weather I've been getting in the Christmas mood with a little help from a can of spray snow and some holiday decor.

Here's my front window sprayed with faux-frost. Now who'd guess I could get a killer tan in December -if I didn't care about skin spots, cancer and wrinkles, that is... Merry Christmas! And to you Californians...don't forget the sun block.

Here I am, in mouse ears, at the happiest place on earth. I took my daughter and her friend to Disneyland a few weeks ago.

Upon my entry into the land that Disney built, I immediately reverted back to myself at fours year old, "What rides d'ya wanna go on now... the Pirates of the Carribean, Thunder Mountain, the tea cups?" So these rides aren't the scariest, but they're whimsical and happy just like Walt Disney had planned. (photo:me at 4 yrs. old, after accosting Pluto, 1967)

But! The Disney executives have made some pretty dumb decisions - if you ask me - and though no one is... In my opinion, the Michael Jackson Captain E.O., or whatever it was called, was totally un-Disneyesque. And the idea of sticking the California Experience (Duh! mini-California within California) park next to Disneyland was lame. But most maddening are all of the great rides from yesterday that are no longer there, including the submarines. The submarine lagoon sits empty, without a ripple. Tomorrowland, once one of my favorite lands, seems to have given up, as if the Disney execs are saying there's no hope for the future - you've already seen the best innovations that the human mind can imagine.

While I found Tomorrowland lacking, I was truly disappointed with what they did for the Christmas season to the haunted house. Rather than spinning through the transparent, dancing dead amid the dust and cobwebs - I was jangled by day-glo cartoon characters from Tim Burton's "Nightmare Before Christmas." Annoyed, yes, but not scared.

Otherwise, I, along with my daughter and her friend, had the most fun we've had in a long time - strolling through the colorful lands, stuffing our faces with expensive candy, humming along to the piped in Disney music while plotting our next ride.

When I waited in line for the Peter Pan ride I watched young, "cool" guys with their jeans hanging on their hips as they stepped into ships with sails to fly above London with Peter and Wendy. Disneyland lets everyone become children again, even guys in baggy jeans. And that's what I love about the place!

The evening ended with fireworks bursting through the sky, followed with Disney-made snow sprinkled on our heads as we walked through crowded Main Street.

As a child, I think I remember Tinkerbell zipping through the sky on a wire at the end of the evening. Maybe she did, or maybe I just thought I saw her. Either way... it was always a magical experience - just as it is today.